a em of eleven fifteen

I want to get high
and I can only lie to the page
in particular ways.
Now that it's out there
every inch of skin, dollar spent
and minute away
will be measured
against the weight of lead poppy.

She keeps knowing more than she needs to
and I always double down on never needing
enough.
I can pay you back with one good hand,
is a lie I'd like to tell my epitaph.

We might need a new home in two weeks.
Our home is her, two young boys
two cats, a dog, and a dozen chickens.
I've only ever had one fat ass to cover
and caring for that was mediocre at best.

The sunset is a fucking Degas today
bright, brilliant pastels
that couldn't appear more unreal.
My world is tricking me
I am losing track of my anxiety.